Page 17 of A Nest of Maple & Mist

We belonged together, designation bullshit aside.

My parents thought differently.

Mia came from a loving home with two parents who worked endlessly to make every moment special for her and each other. In comparison, my house was sterile. My parents may have been a bonded alpha and omega, but social etiquette dictated that they remain stuck-up and indifferent in public.

Which meant I never saw my parents kiss, hug, or even hold hands. I doubted whether they even spent my mother’s heats together outside of the one time where she got pregnant with me.

Mia’s parents were all the things mine weren’t: affectionate, supportive, and kind. When I shared with them how I wanted to pursue carpentry after high school, they were thrilled. Mr. Birch offered to connect me with one of his friends who took on apprentices.

Then there were my parents, who were far less enthused. My father mumbled something about it being beneath a Hemlock while my mother wailed about me throwing my life away.

My father ran one of the largest whisky distilleries in the country. And as his sole heir, so much was expected of me. I was something to be leveraged, not loved. Not like a son should be.

I adored Mia and her parents; I always felt special from the moment I stepped into their home.

Then, I’d destroyed it, because I’d been too young and ignorant to fight for what mattered.

To fight for her.

And the worst part was, I didn’t even have the strength to face her.

She was the girl I wanted to grow old with. The one I’d spent months telling how much I loved her.

And then I’d broken up with her in a fucking text message.

Two weeks after that, the car crash happened. The one that killed her parents. She’d been in the car but miraculously survived with no injuries. And I couldn’t be there to hold her.

I’d lived with that rot in my chest for years. It festered, poisoning me from the inside out.

In the last few days, her scent cemented itself in our home, lingering in the air and slowly dragging me under with the tide. Now, standing in the archway, it engulfed me—intense and overwhelming and so beautifully consuming.

Her scent made Ty’s subtle fragrance shine, while Jason’s smoky amber tied it all together.

The kitchen smelled like pack.

Like family.

Like home.

Mia Birch looked adorable nestled between our Apex alpha and our beta. Golden light spilled over her face, making her glow like an angel. Messy curls cascaded over her shoulders, brushing her exposed clavicle. The thin skin under her eyes was slightly puffy, a red tint shining on the creases.

My alpha paced, desperate to fix whatever had harmed our omega.

The muscles in her shoulders stiffened. A vein beside Jason’s pulse throbbed, and Ty’s eyes widened. Her fork clattered on her plate, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the quiet room.

Then, those two dark eyes—the ones that had haunted my dreams for years—locked onto mine. The blood drained from my face, my vision blurring as it tunneled in on Mia Birch.

I saw everything. Felt everything. So much guilt and longing swirled in my gut that it almost sent me to my knees. Instead, a strained smile slid along my cracked lips.

“Hi, love,” I breathed, the familiar endearment rolling off my tongue as if we didn’t have a broken history between us.

Her reaction was instantaneous. And it wasn’t the tearful reunion my delusional heart had hoped for.

Color flooded her cheeks, a dark crimson, making her freckles flare and her eyes glow like wildfire. She glared at me like a coiled rattlesnake prepared to strike, fangs dripping with venom.

“Really?!” she hissed, shoving off Jason and Ty as she rose to her feet, slamming her fists on the granite countertop. “Shane Hemlock. You broke up with me over a text nearly five years ago, and all you have to say is, ‘Hi, love?’ Fuck you!”

Despite that more or less being the reaction I expected, my heart tumbled into my stomach. Before I could utter another word, her delicate fingers curled around the edge of her plate.